


A Prayer for Tomorrow

by CharlotteAshmore



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: 8B Promo, Angst, Carl's fate, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Smut, all the feels
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-15
Updated: 2018-02-17
Packaged: 2019-03-19 04:26:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,822
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13696833
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CharlotteAshmore/pseuds/CharlotteAshmore
Summary: "Winning just means we get tomorrow, and maybe one more night. After that ... no guarantees." Carol learns of Carl’s fate and turns to the only person she can to console her … Daryl.





	1. Dear Carol

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.
> 
> A/n: My darling friend, Marie1063 came to me … “I have a plot bunny and no time to write it. Help!” What are friends for, lol? This little story focuses on the season 8B promo. I hope you enjoy!

Part One: Dear Carol

 

          _Carl?  No … no!_   She just couldn’t accept it.  _Not her brave, sweet boy._  A sob wrenched from her throat, tears washing over her cheeks brightened pink by her recent exposure to the sun.  Carl had endured so much from the very beginning … the walker attack at the quarry, barely escaping the CDC, being shot and nearly killed while searching for Sophia, that night on the farm, a harsh winter running from one herd after another, the attack on the prison, surviving on the road after Atlanta … god, the list was endless and not even touching on what he’d gone through after his arrival in Alexandria.  How could he have been so careless as to have allowed himself to be bitten?

          Carol barely felt the welcoming warmth as Daryl’s arm snaked around her shoulders, pulling her against his side, offering what comfort he could.  For longer than she could recall, he’d been her rock, her strength, her reason.  Yet, she couldn’t revel in the warmth of his embrace, however; not as she glanced over at Rick where Maggie stood weeping before him as he now shared the news with her, his eyes red-rimmed, a blatant testament to his grief.  How would he ever go on without his son, the driving force of his will to survive?

          Judith whimpered, her little hand tracing the tears scorching Carol’s face.  She refused to release her death grip on Daryl’s unkempt hair as she reached for the woman who’d been as good as a mother to her since shortly after her birth.  “Care!” she whimpered again, demanding attention.

          Carol reached for her, but her attention was drawn to the paper clasped in her white-knuckled grip, and she stopped before reaching the child, her arm falling to her side.  “Carol …” a breath of a whisper drew her gaze to his, the twisting dagger of pain in her chest wrenching a sob from her throat.  So much pain …

          “I’m s-sorry!” swept brokenly past her lips as she prised herself free of his consoling arm to run blindly, pounding steps carrying her towards Barrington House and the solace of the space which had been allotted to her.

          Daryl glanced down at Asskicker in his arms, the little girl’s needs weighing heavily on the scale with his wants, before his eyes once more sought out the retreating form of Carol as she disappeared from view.  Jerry held out a hand, nodding in understanding before he followed, the message clear on his unusually somber features.  _She won’t be alone._

Michonne caught Daryl’s eye as she approached, watching as he shifted from foot to foot and rubbed soothing circle’s over Judith’s back.  “I could take her if you want to go after Carol,” she offered, holding out her arms for the girl.  But Judith turned away and buried her face against her Uncle Daryl’s throat, a wince crossing his features as her little hands tightened in his hair.  “Or not.”

          He scrubbed a hand over his face and closed his eyes wearily.  “She’s been like this since the raid … when I came back after, and found out about –“ Daryl cut himself off abruptly, sadness, bitterness and grief choking off his words.  “She needs me.”

          Michonne tilted her head to the side, scrutinizing every nuance of his face.  “So does Carol … now, I think, more than ever.  Just as you need her, Daryl.”  She took a sleepy Judith from his aching arms and settled the child against her shoulder.  “I think Judy will be ok now.  She has me … and her daddy.  Go to Carol now.”

          Daryl huffed a beleaguered breath and gnawed his lip for a long moment before he nodded.  “Thanks, ‘Chonne.”  He didn’t waste another moment before loping off towards the great brick edifice where Carol had disappeared.

 

*.*.*

 

          Carol dropped the letter onto the navy and white duvet which covered her bed and began quickly shucking her armor, tossing the pieces across the room haphazardly in a fit of pique.  Her boots went flying next, the left leaving a scuff in the drywall next to a bookshelf.  She removed her belt, setting her weapons aside and placing her trench knife on the bedside table.  But her rage quickly abated, giving into the grief she was trying so desperately not to feel.

          How much more loss would she be forced to endure before it broke her completely?  Her fingers trembled as she stretched towards the crumpled parchment, her name barely discernible amongst the creases and folds. She hastily brushed a tear away, his penmanship not having improved much since the turn when she and Lori had still tried to maintain structure for their children by making them attend lessons.  Those days seemed a lifetime ago now.

          Carol squared her shoulders and built up her walls as she unfolded the note Rick had pressed into her hands, refusing to let herself feel.  Her feet unconsciously dragged her towards the window and the lure of the afternoon sunlight, her eyes focusing blearily through the tears she wouldn’t allow to fall.

 

_Dear Carol,_

_Hey.  I hope this letter gets to you.  I left it with the ones I wrote for Dad, Michonne, Enid, and Daryl.  I didn’t leave one for Judy because I don’t think it will survive whatever’s coming, not long enough for her to be able to read it.  I trust my family to tell her about me … someday.  All I ever wanted was for her to be safe._

_I’m sorry I have to go.  There was always a chance this would happen, even as strong as we all are now.  None of us is immune.  Guess I had to find out the hard way, huh?  I was just trying to do the right thing.  Please don’t be mad.  At least I’ll be able to see Mom … and Sophia.  There are so many loved ones we’ve lost, but I miss them the most.  I miss them so much, Carol._

_I want to tell them what a great mom you were to me, how you always looked after me and kept me safe, how you taught me to be a good man.  I know I didn’t always say it, not enough anyway, but I love you so much._

_I don’t know how things are going to play out today or how much time I have left to get this done, so I have to hurry.  But I need to tell you what I’ve learned from this.  We only have today, Carol, one chance to get it right.  I’ve wasted so much time, and now … I don’t get to tell Enid how much I care about her.  I don’t get to kiss her one more time.  No more runs with my dad, no more comics with Michonne, no more stories with Judy.  There are no guarantees!  What I’m trying to say is, don’t waste a minute._

_Tell him.  Tell Daryl how much you love him.  I know you do, just as much as he loves you.  I don’t know what you’re afraid of, but the time for being scared is past.  You don’t know what’s going to happen today … or tomorrow, but could you stand to lose him without telling him how you feel?  Could you live with the regret?_

_Be happy, Carol.  Fight hard for it, for our family and for Daryl._

_I love you,_

_Carl_

          A hot wash of tears trailed from beneath her closed lids as the fingers of her left hand fisted into the heavy drape adorning the window, the letter gripped tightly in her right hand pressed over her heart.  A sob tore free of her throat as she pressed her brow to the cool window pane, fighting against the torrent of pain threatening to bring her to her knees.

          Carol shook her head as a knock came at the door.  She didn’t want anyone to see her moment of weakness, and she knew it could only be one of two people concerned enough to invade her solitude.  Daryl or Jerry.  Considering Daryl had his hands full with the littlest Grimes, she was betting on the latter.  She knew her friend would stand a silent watch over her, much as he’d done for Ezekiel, without question, but she didn’t want him to think she didn’t appreciate his efforts.

          “I can’t … I’m not fit for c-company just now, Jerry,” she called softly, hoping her voice wouldn’t betray her emotions.

          “Good thing I ain’t him, then, huh?”

          Carol felt her walls begin to crumble, the mortar and stone disintegrating to rubble at the sound of his voice.  She could hide from anyone … anyone but _him._

 

*.*.*

 

          Daryl eyed the huge foyer and its grand staircase with trepidation, much like when he’d visited the Hilltop before.  He felt constricted in his own skin, out of place, the oppressive silence crowding in on him not helping in the least.  Everyone was still outside, preparing for battle and whatever it was Negan and his Saviors would wage against them next.  But not his Carol.  She was there somewhere within the great brick building, lost in her grief.  He couldn’t allow her to suffer alone.  The entire trek from Alexandria, one thought had kept his feet moving … he would see her again.  He’d prayed she had survived the raid on the Kingdom and rendezvoused with Maggie.  The hardships and abuse he’d suffered in his life had convinced him there was no all powerful being watching over them, but for Carol … for her he would pray.

          He needed her more than the air he breathed, her smile - sustenance for his soul.  She was his rock, his strength, his reason … always.  Bolstering his resolve, he took the stairs two at a time, the drive to find her overwhelming, pushing him onward.  How many times had he lost her now?  That night on the farm had been almost _too_ close, more close calls on the road that winter, when Andrew had sabotaged the prison and he’d nearly lost her in the tombs, Rick sending her away … He shuddered, remembering the elation he’d felt in her arms in the woods outside of Terminus.  He’d been so ready.  He’d thought they could finally begin to stoke the fire which had always existed between them.

          Daryl had opened himself up to her, silently pleading with her to take her rightful place at his side and in his heart.  But it had been _she_ who had withdrawn and built her walls until he’d realized it had no longer been their time.  He had, however, refused to give up.  He couldn’t let her go, not as long as there was still breath in his body.  He’d lost her in Atlanta, and then again in Alexandria.  He couldn’t bear to do it again.  Not again.  He didn’t know how many tomorrows they had left.  It was their time … _NOW_.

          Finding nothing but emptiness, he pounded up the stairs to the third floor, and there he could see Jerry standing vigilant before the door at the end of the hall, hands resting atop his ever-present battle axe.  The big man nodded and stepped away, and Daryl huffed a relieved sigh he wouldn’t have to fight him for entrance to Carol’s room.

          “Has she said anything?” he asked, nodding towards the oak door.

          “Not a word,” Jerry said with a shake of his head, “but she knows I’m here if she needs me.”  He pointed a stocky finger in the direction of the stairs.  “I’ll keep watch from there now you’re here.”

          Daryl clapped him on the shoulder and paused with his hand on the doorknob.  The king had always set Daryl’s teeth on edge, most likely because of his tender regard for Carol, but he admired the big man who had acted as his guard and his steadfast determination to now protect Carol.

          He bowed his head and sent up a little prayer Carol wouldn’t fight him.  She could be so stubborn, but it was one of the many things he loved about her.  That stubbornness had saved her more than once.  Knocking softly, he waited to hear her reply before turning the knob.

          “I can’t … I’m not fit for c-company just now, Jerry,” she called softly.  Yet he had no trouble hearing her, or the quaver in her voice, that vulnerability she’d never been able to hide from him.

          “Good thing I ain’t him, then, huh?”

          “Daryl …” a breath of sound past her lips.  He watched her shoulders quake, her grip loosening on the drape, and he rushed forward to catch her before she could fall.

          “Hey, I gotcha … I’m here, woman,” he murmured against her silver curls as his arms cocooned her against his chest.  “Y’ ain’t gotta hide from me, Carol.  It’s ok t’ let go … with me.”

          Carol buried her face against his throat as she wrapped an arm around his waist, her fingertips digging into the small of his back.  “I-I don’t want to f-feel, Daryl.  I c-can’t … I’ll break, and then I won’t be good to anyone.”

          His head lowered as his embrace tightened, his cheek pressing to hers, his lips oh so close to the sweet whorls of her ear.  “Feel it, Carol.”  Daryl traced the line of her collarbone before daring to settle his hand over her heart.  “Y’ need t’ feel it.  Y’ fall, I’ll catch y’ … y’ break I’ll put y’ back t’gether best I can, but don’t let it fester an’ make y’ forget who y’ are.”

          A hiccupping sob broke past her lips.  “I-I don’t even know who that is a-anymore.”

          Daryl felt the anxiety crawl like so much vermin beneath his skin, and he forced a deep breath into his lungs.  A feeling of helplessness surged through him and he was forced to beat it back in his need to help her.  How was he to do that when still, after all the time which had passed, he still had trouble forming his words, always fearful of rejection, ridicule and scorn.  But he had to push through it now … for _her._

          He removed his hand from her heart to tilt her chin up, needing to see her beautiful eyes, bracing himself for the pain he knew he’d find there.  Yet he craved that connection, needing to see the impact of his words reflected there, to see down into her soul.  The days of watching her from the side of his eye was long past, and he met her gaze with nary a flinch, full on, as it was meant to be.

          “You’re my Carol,” he said simply, summing up his universe in three words.  “You’re a mother, nurturin’, protective, lovin’ an’ compassionate; a friend, always willin’ t’ listen or lend a hand; a survivor, steppin’ up an’ screamin’ at th’ world, telling fate y’ won’t jus’ lay down t’ die; a warrior, fighting with every breath t’ make this world better.”  He pressed his brow to hers, their breaths mingling, her tears joining with his to become lost in his scruff.  “That’s who y’ are.”

          “I’ve done so many horrible things, Daryl.  I’m so lost,” she breathed.

          “No y’ ain’t.  You’re right here … with me.  Still tryin’, right?”

          She drew in a deep stuttering breath, and he could almost feel her pain.  “How can I when I lose everyone I love?  Sophia,” she gasped, her daughter’s name still flaying open her heart after all this time.  “The girls …”

          “Y’ don’t have t’ –“

          “Lizzie k-killed her little sister.  Sh-She didn’t understand the walkers were bad, and … she wanted her to come back, so we could see.  Oh, god, Daryl, I had to … I couldn’t let her hurt Judith too.”  She hid her face against his chest, knowing she wouldn’t be able to bear the horror in his eyes, the condemnation he surely felt towards her.  “And now I’ve f-failed Lori.  I _promised_ her I would watch over her children, and I failed.  Carl’s gone.  I never should have run away from Alexandria.  I should have been there for him, for Judy.”

          Daryl fell with her as her knees buckled, cushioning her fall against his body.  He dragged her onto his lap, his arms banded about her as he held her close to his chest.  “Y’ were a mess, Carol.  How could take care of those kids if y’ couldn’t take care of yourself?  It ain’t your fault Carl’s gone.  It ain’t your fault those girls are gone.  I know y’, woman.  I know y’ did everythin’ y’ could t’ watch out for ‘em.”

          He leaned back against the wall beneath the window and let her cry.  _God knows she’s earned a good cry_ , he thought, stroking a hand gently over her spine. _What must it have cost her t’ confide somethin’ like that in me?_   Could he do any less?  It would do them both a world of good to be free of their burdens, or at least to share them so they wouldn’t be so heavy.  Perhaps then they would be able to heal.

          “I’m sorry I lied t’ y’ … at th’ cottage when y’ asked about –“

          The soft pads of her fingertips pressed gently to his lips.  “You had your reasons. I was in a bad place, and you could see it.  You were trying to protect me … like always.”

          “Wasn’t th’ only thing I lied about, an’ I hated it.  Ain’t never been dishonest with y’ before, an’ it made me feel like shit.  Don’t matter that it was what y’ needed t’ hear,” he mumbled against her temple.

          Carol tilted her face up to study him.  He’d always been a better read than the entire bestseller list, and his upset was a welcome distraction from the pain of her memories.  “Do you want to talk about it?” she asked cautiously, never knowing when she’d say something to send him running.

          Daryl laid his head back against the wall and closed his eyes, his sharp teeth shredding the inside of his lip.  “Gawd, no, I don’t …” His lids slowly cracked open to meet her gaze.  “But I need to.”

          She folded the twisted paper into a neat square and stuffed it into her pocket before she took his hand, twining his fingers with hers in a show of support.  “You know you can talk to me, Daryl.”

          He nodded jerkily.  “I know.  It’s jus’ … hard.  It’s hard t’ talk about what I saw, what I did … what was done t’ … t’ me.  Don’t want y’ t’ hate me.”

          Carol rested so easily in his arms, drawing on his strength, ready to offer her own.  She could see the anguish in his eyes, feel it in the tension of his muscles.  Whatever he had to tell her weighed more heavily on him than anything he’d ever faced before.  “I could never hate you,” she whispered, giving his hand a squeeze as she rested her head against his shoulder.  “Talk to me, Daryl.”

          A sigh stuttered past his lips, and he was glad she’d averted her face, so the words would come more easily to him.  He didn’t have to be afraid with her. 

          “I went after him, th’ bastard who killed Denise, which was really fuckin’ stupid, but y’ know better than anyone what a jackass I can be.”

          Carol snorted.  “You’ve come a long way since the man I met at the quarry, but you are still ruled by your emotions, and injustice has never set well with you.  You didn’t find him, though, did you,” she said, more of a statement than a question due to what she knew of the man serving as a double agent.

          “No, I did.  Michonne, Rosita an’ Glenn … they followed me.  They shoulda stayed their asses back home.” His breath hitched and came in short pants as he tried to rein in his emotions.  “Glenn would’ve been with Maggie.  Not out in th’ woods tryin’ t’ talk me down.  If I’d’ve killed Dwight in th’ burnt forest, he wouldn’t’ve been there, wouldn’t’ve shot me.”

          She pulled his head down to rest in the crook of her neck, her fingers weaving in and out through his hair as she caressed his nape.  “You were doing what you believed was right.  My man of honor,” she murmured reverently, dropping a kiss to his brow.

          “I didn’t even know you were gone … thought y’ were safe back home with th’ lumberjack.”  A low growl rumbled in his chest, but he cut it off.  Now was not the time for a spate of jealousy where Tobin was concerned.  “I think they were jus’ waitin’ for us.  They’d prob’ly been plannin’ it for a while.”

          Carol slipped her hand inside the open collar of his shirt, her fingers skimming gently over the puckered flesh of the scar where he’d been shot.  She soothed him as she waited for him to continue.

          “Y’know I seen Rick go through some shit since I’ve known him.  Seen him angry, grief-stricken, arrogant, tender with his kids, but Carol I ain’t never seen him really scared … broken.  That’s how he was when they pulled us outta that van and I saw him and th’ others on their knees in that clearin’.  Musta been ‘bout fifty of Negan’s men there surroundin’ us, our people on their knees and Maggie …”

          “They were taking her to Hilltop to see the doctor.”  Morgan had filled her in on the basics of what had happened.  Frankly, it shocked her Daryl was being so open with her now.  It was as if he was being driven by some soul-deep need to share this with her.  “What did Negan do, Daryl?”

          His body trembled beneath her gentle touch, and he swiped a hand over his eyes to clear the tears which had escaped.  “Toyed with us like some psycho, like he was enjoyin’ himself.  Told us we were his now, that we worked for him, but first … first he had to set an example an’ kill one of us.”

          “Abraham.”

          Daryl nodded, pressing his head closer into the crook of her neck.  “Yeah, bashed his head in with that bat.  Then he saw how torn apart Rosita was an’ shoved it in her face, tauntin’ her.  That’s when I lost my shit.  I went after him, got in a solid hit before his boys tackled me t’ th’ ground.  Figured if he wanted blood … he could have mine.  I didn’t want him t’ hurt no one else.”

          “Daryl!” she cried, cradling his face in her warm palms and pulling his head up so he would be forced to meet her gaze.  “Look at me.”  Slowly, he opened his red-rimmed eyes, pain radiating in their depths along with a fair bit of shame.  “You’ve got to stop this.  Why do you think you have to sacrifice yourself?”

          “Better me than someone I care about,” he growled lowly.

          Carol winced as he flopped back against the wall and raked a shaky hand through his hair.  “You’re just as important, Daryl … just as good.”

          Her words thawed some of the ice which had settled in his veins since that night, and he pulled her back into his chest, returning her hand to where she’d been stroking his chest.  “Didn’t work anyway.  Instead of me, he went after Glenn.”  His voice broke and his face crumpled, the tears falling freely.  Everything he’d kept bottled inside for so long, pouring out in hot tears of anguish.  “All my fault.  Don’t care if Maggie says it wasn’t … If I hadn’t –“

          “NO!  No, it’s not.  He was no doubt planning it from the beginning.  It’s not your fault,” she whispered fervently, her brow pressing to his, trying to ground him.  She held him for a long time before he finally settled enough to continue, but the guilt still weighed heavily in his graveled voice.

          “They … uhm … they loaded me up in a van an’ took me to Negan’s compound.  He told Rick I was his now.  Wanted me t’ be one of his soldiers.”  His eyes were tortured as they rose to meet hers.  “They tried t’ break me, make me kneel, make me one of ‘em.  Paraded me around Alexandria like a fuckin’ pet.”

          Carol pressed her cheek to his, her lips at his ear, her voice low, sweet and soothing to his battered senses.  “They hurt you,” she breathed, her breath warm as it fanned over his skin causing him to shiver.  “But they didn’t break you.”  Her fingers carded through his hair and he leaned into the touch, seeking more.  “He’ll never realize how strong you are … or how fiercely loyal to your family.”

          “We have t’ win, Carol.  We cain’t let him hurt anyone else.”

          Carol smiled sadly, leaning back to catch his eye and brush away his remaining tears.  “Winning just means we get tomorrow, and maybe one more night. After that ... no guarantees.”  She climbed off of his lap, her bare toes digging into the carpet as she wrapped her arms around her middle, trying to hold herself together.  The thought of what he might have suffered at the hands of the Saviors tormenting her.

          “Y’ sound like y’ givin’ up,” he murmured incredulously as he shot to his feet.  He couldn’t bring himself to believe it … not from her.  Not after everything they’d survived since the quarry.  “Carol … y’ cain’t.”

          “I’m not giving up, Daryl, but it’s made me think.”  She sighed, forcing herself to remain upright instead of leaning back into his warmth a mere hair’s breadth away.  “I _don’t_ know anything for certain, I don’t think I ever did. All I can be sure of is my own heart, and I know I don’t want to have any regrets if I should die tomorrow.”

          “NO!” he ground out through clenched teeth.  “Y’ ain’t leavin’ me again, so jus’ fucking stop talkin’ shit right now, woman.”  He wrapped his arms around her from behind, over hers, pulling her tightly against him as his brow dropped t’ her shoulder.  “Y’ said you’d try.”

          Her teeth sank into her lower lip to still its trembling.  “I already broke that promise, but -”

          “Make it again,” he snapped urgently.

          “There are no guarantees. That’s why I have to tell you -”

          “Carol … please …” His body shook with tremors, his voice higher pitched in his desperation.  “I love you.  I cain’t lose y’ again.”

          A sob swept past her lips, leaving her gasping.  “Daryl …”

          “When y’ were ready I wasn’t, an’ then when I was ready you weren’t.  We gave each other time until it jus’ ran out.  There’s no more time t’ be scared t’ tell y’ how I feel, Carol.  I cain’t take th’ chance I’m gonna lose y’ again.”

          “Oh, Daryl …”  She turned her face up to his, her lips at the corner of his mouth as her own blossomed into a blinding smile.  “I love you, too.  I was trying to tell you.”


	2. Don't Waste a Minute

 

          He turned her in his arms, so he could cradle her against his chest, and Carol’s eyes widened at the smile gracing his lips.  She hadn’t seen him smile like that since the day he’d teased Glenn out of the watchtower.  She wiggled her arm loose, her fingertips tracing his lower lip.

          “What?  Got somethin’ on my face?” Daryl asked, nipping at her fingers a bit playfully.

          Carol’s head tilted to the side as she took him in.  “You’re so beautiful.  It’s been a long time since I’ve seen you so happy.”

          “Stahp.” He ducked his head, a furrow forming between his brows.  “Is it wrong … t’ be so happy about somethin’ when we’ve lost so much?”

          She shook her head.  “No,” she insisted.  “If we can’t find some happiness amidst the misery and grief, what do we have to fight for?  It’s the little moments we live for, Daryl.”

          Before he could ask her what she’d meant, a knock sounded at the door.  His narrow-eyed glare focused on it as Carol eased herself out of his arms.  “Better be Negan at th’ fuckin’ gate,” he grumbled, moving towards the window to stare down at the activity below.

          Carol hid a smile at his upset and pulled the door open to admit Jerry bearing a tray.  “Hey.  Thought you guys might be hungry.  They just pulled a hog off the smoker.”

          She felt her stomach rumble as the heady aroma of roasted pork, fresh baked bread and steamed vegetables met her nose.  “Thank you, Jerry.  That was very thoughtful.”

          “Maggie came up to check on you,” he said, setting the tray down on a small table.  “When I told her you were with Daryl, she didn’t want to disturb you, but she wanted to let you know the second-floor showers were free.”  He ducked his head sheepishly.  “I … uhm … I left clean clothes for you both down there, towels, soap and … stuff.”

          “Jerry, you didn’t have to do that,” she admonished gently.  Carol still wasn’t used to the big man seeing to her needs in his self-appointed duty as her bodyguard.  And unfortunately, she hadn’t been able to talk him out of it.

          Jerry glanced over at Daryl who hadn’t moved from the window before shuffling his feet and grinning like a big kid.  “I know, but I wanted to.”

          Daryl turned back to her after Jerry took his leave, lifting the cover from one of the plates.  “Think y’ can eat?”

          “Maybe a little.  I want a shower and then I need to check on Henry before I feel I can retire.  A walk around the perimeter wouldn’t be amiss either.”

          He pulled out a chair and urged her into it.  “Eat, woman.  I’ll go shower and get Morgan to check on the boy.”  That was another one he’d rather keep away from Carol, but seeing as both she and Morgan had been right hand to the king, they’d formed a sort of friendship.  He still hadn’t gotten over the asshole slamming Carol into a concrete floor, and he was damn lucky Daryl hadn’t shot him in the ass.

          “But –“

          “I’ll eat when I get back.  Won’t be long.”

 

*.*.*

 

          Carol huffed again as she hurried down the hallway from the third-floor landing, looking both ways, but there was no sign of Jerry.  _Yeah, just wait ‘til I get a hold of you, big boy!_   She sneered down at the thin wispy slip-like night gown he’d left for her downstairs and envisioned stealing the last piece of cobbler from the kitchens.  A fitting punishment for such an underhanded trick.  She would have left it there in the bathroom, but during the time she’d been in the shower, her dirty clothes had been collected, leaving the gown her only covering … if she didn’t want to streak stark naked back to her room.

          Thankfully, she had more clothes in her bag, but what would Daryl say when she returned?  There was still so much they hadn’t discussed, and she didn’t think he was ready to get physical with her.  She pursed her lips and shook her head.  He hadn’t even kissed her yet.  She came to a screeching halt in the middle of the hallway, her eyes riveted to the door at the end of the corridor.  If Jerry had left her with something so immodest … oh, lord! What had he left for Daryl?

          Carol ground her teeth together in frustration and squared her shoulders.  There was no point standing in the hallway silently driving herself crazy when she could take the final steps to her room and face it head-on.  She could handle her irate Dixon … right?  Ignoring the little whimper hovering at the back of her throat, she turned the knob and slipped inside. 

          She breathed a tiny sigh of relief to see him standing at the open window, the cool breeze with the onset of nightfall more than welcome, the glow of the evening fires below aiding the feeble light provided by the lantern on her night table. He didn’t turn, but she could see the loosening of muscle along his shoulders when he felt her presence.

          “They’ve lit th’ fires … everythin’ seems quiet.  Saw Rick and ‘Chonne take Sasha’s old trailer,” he murmured, sighing heavily as he felt Carol press against his back, fitting her curves to his harsher lines, her arm wrapping about his waist to splay her fingers over his belly. He lifted her hand and brought it up to rest over his heart, his own covering hers.  “Your boy stole my clothes.”

          Carol hid a smile against the back of his shoulder at his somewhat amused statement.  “I noticed,” she said, using her free hand to trail over the white tank and gray joggers Jerry had left for him.  “I’m sure they’ll be returned to you tomorrow.  I think he might’ve been trying his hand at playing matchmaker.”

          Daryl arched a brow at her over his shoulder and used the hand he held captive to draw her around to face him.  His breath hitched as he took in the thin linen shift, the fabric doing little to hide the outline of her body from his heated gaze.  Her shoulders were bare but for two thin straps and his eyes followed the line of them to her delicate collarbones and further down to the swell of her breasts.  “I see y’ didn’t escape his thievin’ either, huh?” he asked for want of something to say to keep his tongue from sticking to the roof of his mouth. He wanted to touch her so badly, his fingers itched, yet he was afraid to move too fast.

          A wry smirk toyed at her lips, but she refused to say something to make the situation any more awkward.  “It doesn’t matter.  If someone wants to offer us a shower and free laundry service, they can have my heartfelt thanks.”  She tugged on his hand, pulling him towards the bed, her heart beating so loudly she was sure he could hear it.  She mentally chastised herself.  It wasn’t the first time she’d shared a bed with him, and hopefully it wouldn’t be the last.  There was no need to be nervous.  Yet, there was still that niggling voice in the back of her head trying to argue.  “Come on to bed.  After walking from Alexandria, I don’t see how you’re even still standing.”

          He nodded to the settee along the far wall.  “Y’ sure?  I can take th’ couch,” he offered.  “I don’t wanna crowd y’ if y’ ain’t ready.”

          Carol shook off her trepidation and narrowed her eyes.  “Move it, Pookie.  Don’t make me force the issue.”

          Daryl snorted, folded the blankets down to the foot, and climbed onto the queen-sized bed.  “Yes, ma’am.”  When he settled atop the sheets, he held his arms open to her, inviting her back into his embrace.

          And there was no way in hell Carol would ever refuse the comfort of his arms.  She hummed softly as she came to rest at his side, tucking her head against his shoulder, her leg thrown over one of his and her arm slung over his waist.  She felt as if she’d finally found home.  But apparently, it wasn’t good enough for him.  Daryl moved onto his side, his arms wrapped around her, but now her head lay on his arm, so he could see her in the muted light.  Oh, she liked his way _much_ better.

          He was quiet for a long moment, and Carol was sure he would drift off when his deep graveled voice broke the silence.  “This … this is what I wanted for us when I found you again that day after we escaped Terminus.” His rough fingertips caressed the smooth line of her jaw before toying with the curls over her ear, a soft smile turning up the corner of his mouth.  “But that night on watch, hell, y’ wouldn’t even talk t’ me … not really.  Now I know why, but for a while there, I didn’t think y’ cared anymore.”

          Carol shook her head, her eyes filling with tears.  “No … not for a second.  I’ve loved you for so long, Daryl.  I meant it that day in Atlanta when I said I would try.  I was a mess over the girls.  I didn’t know if I could find my place with the group again, but I was going to try … for _you_.”

          Daryl sucked in a deep breath, hearing what she’d left unsaid and feeling the tension roil in his gut.  “But?”

          She dropped her gaze, her lids closing on the pain she couldn’t hide from him.  “I watched how you grieved for Beth.  You were broken, and I didn’t know how to help you.  I could see how much you loved her, and I didn’t know how to admit to myself I’d … lost you.”

          Daryl stared at her with a mixture of disgust and horror.  “Y’ got a head injury I don’t know about?  What th’ fuck’re y’ talkin’ about woman?” he asked, putting a little distance between them until he could figure her out.

          Carol pressed her lips into a thin line of disdain.  “My head is fine.  And don’t try to blow it off, Daryl.  Everyone could see how hard you took her death, how much you cared for her.”

          He flopped onto his back and raked a hand through his still damp hair, pulling hard at the roots.  _This is un – fuckin’ – believable!_ “Gawd, Carol.  Beth was a fuckin’ kid, an’ all I had left after we ran from th’ prison.  She was all unicorns and glitter, for shit’s sake, but I was all she had left too.  She was _my_ responsibility.”  His voice quavered as he swung his gaze to meet hers.  “She reminded me of Sophia.  She was my second chance to get it right, to do right by her … an’ I failed her too.  Beth made me think of how it woulda been if your little girl had lived, how I coulda taught her things, how t’ hunt, t’ track, t’ protect herself.  Beth was young enough t’ be my daughter … there ain’t no way I coulda loved her like that.” He wondered if he should be offended Carol could have thought such a thing about him, but her head hadn’t exactly been in the best place then either.

          “I didn’t know,” Carol whispered brokenly, tears streaming over her ashen cheeks.  “I’d never seen you react like that before.”

          “’Course y’ didn’t.  I couldn’t tell y’, couldn’t stand t’ see what it would do t’ y’.”  He cleared the moisture from the corner of his eyes and pulled her closer.  “How could y’ think I’d want a child when every step I took on that road echoed your name?”  
          Carol wanted to kick her own ass.  “And when we got to Alexandria, I built up my walls and wouldn’t let _anyone_ in.  I was so determined to play my part, I pushed you away until I didn’t think we could even be friends anymore.”

          Daryl sighed and pressed his brow to hers, needing the connection they’d somehow forgotten, watching it begin to strengthen before his very eyes.  “We ain’t ever jus’ had a minute to stop and mourn our losses or heal before th’ next thing came along to bury us.”

          “There’s never any time.  And that’s not how we survive.  We don’t mourn, we just push through it.”

          He forced his body to relax as Carol’s index finger traced a raised scar on his chest through the thin fabric of his tank, the memory of how he’d received it skirting along the edges of his consciousness.  He was proud of himself for not flinching from her touch.  For a while, he’d broken himself from the ingrained reflex to flinch at the slightest contact.  Carol was a very tactile woman, showing affection and friendship through touch.  He’d begun to make the effort over that first winter together when he’d accidentally knocked her on her ass more than once.  He’d felt like such an asshole, but she’d smiled sadly, apologized and went on about her business.  She had learned too; just how to approach him with touch.  Slowly and cautiously, maintaining eye contact, tentative at first touch then with firmer pressure, a battle with his subconscious to show him she wouldn’t hurt him.  He cursed his father to hell and back for putting Carol through so much. His time as Negan’s prisoner had caused him to regress, but it was easily coming back to him … with her.

          Now, Daryl relished the light stroke of her finger over the scar, her touch replacing pain with love.  He gave her hip a squeeze before his arms tightened around her and pulled her closer.  “Y’know when I was locked in that cell at th’ sanctuary, they could take my clothes an’ my dignity, but they couldn’t take my memories of y’ from me.”

          Carol gasped, outraged.  “They took your clothes?!”  She could only imagine how much he’d suffered.  He was such a modest man, mainly due to his scars.  To take his clothes must have nearly driven him mad.

          “Shh, woman,” he murmured, nuzzling her cheek with his nose.  “They did a lotta shit, but like y’ said … they didn’t break me.”  He tapped the side of his head.  “Had y’ here with me.  When it got t’ be too much, I’d remember th’ way y’ smile jus’ for me, th’ sound of your voice, th’ way it feels when y’ touch me.  Kept me sane an’ made me hope.”

          “W-What did you remember?” she whispered, her lip wibbling as her fingers searched out more of him beneath the neckline of his tank.

          He fidgeted, tracing the length of her spine from bottom to top before trailing his fingers over the strap at her shoulder, mapping her soft skin along the edge.  “I remembered th’ first time y’ held my bow, teachin’ y’ how to brace your stance, my arms around y’, an’ how I wondered if y’ could hear how hard my heart was beatin’.  Th’ first time y’ had t’ share my bedroll that first winter an’ how it felt t’ press my face against th’ back of your neck.  Th’ day I found y’ in solitary an’ how fuckin’ relieved I was t’ have your warm body in my arms after I’d thought y’ died.  But my favorite memory was when I saw y’ standing in th’ woods that day outside Terminus.”

          Goosebumps erupted along her pale skin as his work-roughened hand traversed her arm from shoulder to wrist.  “I was so scared for you that day … when I saw them pull you from the train car.  It didn’t matter if I was never welcome with the group again, Daryl.  All I could think of was saving you.”

          His lips quirked up into a half-moon grin as his hand moved to cup her chin, his thumb ghosting ever so lightly over her full lower lip.  “I wanted t’ kiss y’ so much … before Rick had t’ butt in.  Never wanted to punch him in th’ throat so bad.”

          Carol knew he’d said it to bring levity to the moment to hide his confession, but that sweet admission continued to ring in her ears long after he’d fallen silent again.  “Daryl …” she moaned, deep and low, the sound vibrating the entire length of her throat, spreading warmth to every essential part of her body.  God, how she wanted him.

          He couldn’t hold back any longer, his gaze focusing on her lips as he screwed up his courage.  “Can I … can I kiss y’?”

          Carol’s breath stuttered painfully in her chest, barely daring to breathe, to move, as that simple statement sent a surge of desire coursing through her.  It only increased as his tongue snaked out over his lips to wet them.  How long had she yearned to have his sweet mouth pressed to hers?  Her hand traced over his collarbone, inching upward until his soft hair tickled her fingers, weaving through the strands as she pulled him closer.  She couldn’t have spoken had she tried, so overwhelming were her emotions.  Instead, she closed the distance, brushing her lips to his.

          A tiny whimper escaped his throat as her lips met his, never having felt anything so good, never having wanted something so much in his life.  Though he’d scratched an itch with nameless, faceless women in his past – how could he not have under Merle Dixon’s influence - he was a virgin when it came to kissing.  He’d never had the desire for the intimacy of the act … until Carol.  He’d lain awake more nights than he could count fantasizing about kissing her sweet mouth, her long elegant neck, her delicate shoulders … hell, there hadn’t been an inch of her body he hadn’t dreamed of worshipping with his lips, teeth and tongue.  And now that he’d attained one of his heart’s desires, he prayed he wouldn’t fuck it up.

          Daryl began slowly, chastely, pressing softly only to retreat.  A quick advance to let her know he wanted more; a nip, pulling her lower lip between his.  Gawd, she was heaven, he thought.  His arm tightened around her shoulders, and his rough hand gently curled over her hip, drawing her flush against his body.

          “More …” she whispered against his lips, her tongue darting out to glide along the seam of his lips.

          He opened for her, his tongue shyly seeking hers, a low growl rumbling up from his chest as he tasted her for the first time.  The linen of her gown fisted tightly in his hand as he slowly explored her mouth, his head spinning from the pure bliss of her kiss.  Only the need for air made him break away.

          “No more hidin’, Carol,” he growled, pressing his brow to hers.  “No more time wasted, no more bein’ afraid.  I love y’ so goddamn much.  I ain’t gonna stop fightin’ for y’ … ever.  However long we have … I’m yours.  I wanna stop dreamin’ an’ wishin’ an’ wantin’.  I want us t’ live.”  He nuzzled her nose gently with his.  “Our time is now.”

          A tear slid from the corner of her eye at his impassioned plea.  “Yes,” she breathed, her entire soul alight with happiness.  She didn’t know what tomorrow would bring or whether they’d even make it to nightfall, but for now … now she knew what it felt like to be truly happy and safe in the arms of the man she loved.

          Daryl felt the weight of the world ease from his shoulders as his lips trailed a hot path to her ear, his lips nipping lightly at the sensitive lobe, relishing her shiver.  “D’you want me, sweetheart?  D’you want me t’ touch y’?”

          Carol pressed her hips closer to his as his hot mouth sucked softly at her neck, his tongue darting out to soothe the sting.  She could feel his erection hard and heavy against her thigh, and she cursed the gown she wore for constricting her movements. “God, yes!”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/n: Thank you all who reviewed! You don’t know what your kind words do to me. I want to hug everybody! I hope you all enjoyed this part. The last part will be posted tomorrow on Trivia day! Everybody needs to come to our trivia event on Nine Lives. It’s going to be great! There is more information on the Nine Lives homepage and my tumblr blog: charlotteashmore13. Great buckets of love for my beta team BettyBubble and Geektaire. Y’all rock!


	3. The Time For Being Scared Is Past

 

          Daryl smiled against the hollow of her throat as he brought his hand up along her side, mapping a path to her breasts, his thumb teasing the underside until she moaned.  “I don’t know how t’ be sweet, Carol.  Ain’t never learned how.”

          “Yes, you do … with me,” she gasped as his mouth closed over one taut peak – linen barrier and all – and sucked with just the right amount of pressure to have her hips bucking against him.  “Y-You’ve never b-been anything but gentle with me.”  He nuzzled the valley between her breasts before he paid the same attention to its twin.

          Carol reached for the hem of his tank, watching him hesitate for barely a second before he helped her pull it over his head.  He had no reason to fear her rejection or expect ridicule.  Never from her.  Hell, she’d patched him up enough, and she’d never once made him feel ashamed of the scars which marked his body.  It was his turn to moan as her gentle hands swept over his chest, her fingers plucking at his nipples now before tracing the raised scar beneath his collarbone.  He found nothing but acceptance and love within her gaze.

          Daryl sat back on his heels, pulling her up with him to remove her gown, his hands itching to rend it in two, but he wouldn’t allow his primal side to surge forth and show her just what a beast he could be.  Carol’s face flushed a beautiful pink, highlighting the lightness of her eyes as he whipped the gown over her head to bare her body before him.  His mouth gaped, and a shudder rippled through him with the heat pouring into his cock.  Apparently, Jerry hadn’t thought to provide clean underwear when he’d left clothes for her downstairs.

          He couldn’t take his eyes off of her, knelt there between his knees in all her glory.  But he must have admired her a bit too long, for her arms rose to cover her breasts and her chin dipped towards her chest, uncomfortable with his scrutiny.

          “Hey, no … no, don’t hide from me,” he chastised softly, rubbing gently at her upper arms before he tilted her chin up.  “You’re so beautiful.  Please don’t hide.”

          Her smile was bittersweet, her tone disbelieving.  “Daryl, you have me naked in bed … there’s no reason to lie to me.”

          “Pfft,” Daryl scoffed.  “I ain’t never lied – ‘cept that one time – and I ain’t startin’ now.”  Daryl pulled her back into his arms, her own trapped between their bodies.  If she needed that last little bit of modesty, he wouldn’t deny her.  His hands roamed over her back, gentle caresses meant to soothe; over the soft silver curls at her nape, teasing a shiver from her.  He had unlimited patience when it came to his woman, and he would wait as long as she required.

          “Are you sure this is what you want … to do this with _me_?”  The problems he still harbored with touch were all too familiar to her.  It hadn’t been so long ago he’d begun accepting hugs from her, less since he’d begun initiating them without something dire happening to prompt them.

          He slowly brushed his fingertips over her shoulder, coming to rest along the side of her neck, his thumb nudging her chin up, and he knew she could see the conviction shimmering in his eyes.  “ _Only_ with you, sweetheart.”  His brows furrowed, and his teeth worried at his lip.  “But we can stop … if y’ don’t want –“

          “No!  No, don’t ever think that,” she hurried to cut him off, pressing her fingers to his lips.  “It’s just …”  Carol glanced down at herself, her lip wibbling.

          Daryl stared at her in surprise.  “Is it because o’ your scars?  D’you really think that’s what I see when I look at y’?” he asked incredulously.

          Carol shrugged, wincing.  “Well, it’s not like I ever thought I’d be taking my clothes off for you, Daryl … ever,” she said dryly.  “And there’s a few more now than when I used to constantly fantasize about being with you.”

          He buried his face against her shoulder, so she couldn’t see his smile and think he might be making fun of her insecurities.  “D’you see my scars when you look at me?” he asked, searching out her gaze again after composing himself.  
          “What?! No, of course not.  How could you …”  Her voice trailed away as he arched a brow at her and she realized what he was getting at.  “I’m so ridiculous.”

          This time Daryl _did_ laugh, pulling her closer to kiss her.  “Maybe, but it’s one o’ th’ things I love about y’.”  His touch ghosted over her back from shoulder to waist, feeling shiny scar tissue beneath his fingertips at her lower back.  He brought her flush with him, a low moan rising in his throat at the amount of bare skin beneath his hands.  “Y’ wanna stop?” he whispered as she tilted her head to the side to give him better access to the ivory column of her throat.

          “N-No,” she breathed, reveling in his sweet touch.  “No, don’t stop.”

          Daryl laid her back against the cool sheets, following her down to hover over her on his hands and knees.  “Y’ trust me, right?”

          Carol smirked.  “Are you going to spend the evening asking asinine questions to which you already know the answer, or are you going to kiss me again?” she snarked, reaching for him.

          He swatted her hand away playfully and leaned over her, drawing a nipple between his teeth before circling it with his tongue. Carol’s back arched up off the bed, a wave of heat spiraling through her.  Daryl reared back just enough to keep her from gaining the friction she craved against his cloth covered groin. 

          Feeling she had been properly chastised, his lips moved to a small scar beneath her right collarbone.  “I remember this one,” he murmured, tenderly kissing the small pink blemish.  “It’s where th’ seatbelt cut y’ when we fell from th’ bridge.”  He kissed his way across her skin to what looked like a gunshot wound in her upper right arm.  “What’s this?”

          Carol huffed a sigh of aggravation.  Desire thrummed through her hot and heavy and her love wanted to play connect the dots.  “When I … when I left Alexandria, I had a run in with some Saviors.  One survived.  He didn’t take too kindly to what I’d done to his friends.”  Her body ignited once more beneath softly chapped lips, and she didn’t want to play anymore, didn’t want to think about the marks marring her skin.  “Daryl, do we have to do this now?”

          “Mhmm.” Daryl’s chest rumbled as his lips followed the path along her side, recognizing the thin strips he found, evidence of leather – a belt no doubt – having cut into her, wrapping around her sides and along her hips.  It made him wish he’d had the opportunity back at the quarry camp to have a go at Ed Peletier and beat him within an inch of his life.  How could anyone hurt this precious woman, he thought sadly.  She deserved to be cherished and loved, not beaten and abused.

          “Ed,” she said simply, the memory no longer causing Carol fear or pain.  “He did so love his belt.”

          Daryl’s fingertips found another on her right thigh, newly healed.  “This one?” he asked before lavishing it with his mouth.

          Carol sucked in a sharp breath, heat pooling low, her bundle of nerves throbbing for attention as he placed a lingering kiss at the top of her slit.  “Jesus!  I would have never taken you for such a tease, Dixon!”  He stopped, his eyes seeking hers as his thumb brushed over the scar again.  She sighed in frustration.  “Same Savior.  Daryl, please.”

          He was nearly ready to give in when he noticed the evidence of past stitches along her left side, much like the one he carried from the bolt he’d taken looking for Sophia.  “We match,” he whispered, brushing his lips over the pink scar.  He could see the faint shimmer of tears in her eyes as he reached for her hand and brought it up to touch the one he bore.  “It’s th’ only one I got I’m proud of, y’know? This one’s yours, Carol.”

          This time when she reached for him, he allowed her to pull him down on top of her, his body pressing against hers in all the right places.  She’d never realized how much this man could love her, never could have dreamed it in her wildest imaginings. Not her … mousey little Carol.  She gave herself a mental shake to remind herself that wasn’t who she was any more.  It wasn’t how Daryl perceived her either.  She’d never felt so loved, so alive, as she did in his arms, beneath his questing hands and ardent lips.  She was his, and he didn’t hesitate to show her what that meant.

          Her body was aflame, not an inch he hadn’t touched, so gentle and tender it brought tears to her eyes.  The rough pads of his fingers trailed over her fevered skin, his weight shifting as he dipped into the warm wetness of her core, his kiss growing more urgent.  “Daryl …”

          Carol couldn’t stand the slow torture a moment longer.  Hooking her foot behind his knee and pushing at his shoulder, she managed to take him by surprise and roll him onto his back, straddling him.  His pupils dilated further as she ground herself down on his cock.  _Oh, those pants have got to go,_ she mused, leaning down to brush the hair back from his face.  If they made it through the battle, the first thing she was doing was giving him a trim.

          Her kiss was feverish, and he met her with equal fervor.  It was her turn to explore his body with gentle hands and earnest kisses, her own lips tracing over the scars littering his torso.  A soft grunt, a rumbling growl, a sweet gasp … those were her rewards.  She could feel him grow harder beneath her and knew she couldn’t wait any longer. 

          Carol’s eyes met his as her fingers slipped beneath the elastic of his waistband, silently seeking permission.  Daryl brought his hands down to cover hers, and she moved off of him, so they could drag his pants down his toned legs together.  The second she tossed them aside, he was reaching for her again, dragging her up his body to settle over him once more.

          Her fingers wrapped gently around his turgid shaft and he cried out, his hand covering hers.  “Christ, woman!” he stuttered out, his breath coming in labored pants.  “Y’ tryin’ t’ kill me or somethin’?  I’m barely hangin’ on here as it is.”

          Carol let go for the moment, leaning over to kiss him sweetly.  “I want you inside me, Daryl.  I want to feel you.”

          He groaned, his fingers digging into the soft swell of her hips.  She was making him crazy, which wasn’t at all fair to his way of thinking.  He dipped his thumb through the wetness between her thighs and pressed against her nub, grinning wickedly as her head fell back on her shoulders and a shiver raced through her body.  She was so fucking beautiful in her pleasure.

          Again, she reached for him, and he knew their playfulness had come to an end.  Daryl bit back a whimper as the head of his cock slid through her folds until he was poised there at her entrance, the breath stuttering to a halt in his lungs as she raised up on her knees, giving her the leverage she needed to slide down over his length.  It took every ounce of restraint he possessed not to thrust up into her silken heat, but he was determined to give her the time she needed to adjust.  She was so tight and the tiny contractions of her walls squeezing his cock had him grinding his teeth.

          He’d never had a woman in this position before, didn’t know what to expect – except from things he’d heard from his brother – but he was eager for the experience.  His chest rumbled with a low growl as she slowly rose and fell, her eyes locked with his as she set an easy pace, wanting to savor it for as long as possible.  Daryl felt as if he were seeing into her soul for the first time, not only their bodies joined, but their hearts and minds as well.  He’d never felt anything so pure and perfect, so intimate and warming.  Heat flooded him from the inside out and he never wanted to lose that.

          “Move with me, love,” she panted, her hands braced on his chest, her nails digging into his skin.  “Need … you.” 

          Daryl’s hand curled firmly over her hip, steadying her, the other cupping her breast, thumb circling the rosy bud as he bucked up to meet her.  His neck arched, his head grinding back into the pillow as her pace increased.  He was going mad with pleasure, curses falling from his lips as he neared his peak.

          Carol rode him hard and fast, but she knew she wouldn’t make it before he did, not without a little help.  She dragged his hand from her breast and moved it between their bodies.  “Touch me, Daryl … please,” she cried, sweat beading on her brow from their exertions.  “Please.”

          He found her little nub, circling it with quick strokes of his fingers, and felt her body quake, her thighs tightening around his hips, her pace becoming erratic.  A long low keen erupted from her throat as she fell over the edge, and he continued to thrust up, prolonging her pleasure for as long as possible before he too couldn’t hold back another second, spilling into her. 

          Daryl pulled her down onto his chest, his heaving breaths ruffling her silver curls with each pant.  His hands swept over her back in a gentle caress, soothing her.  His brow furrowed in confusion when he heard her giggle.

          “What?”

          Carol propped her chin on her hand where it rested on his chest and smiled.  “Well, I’d say that was worth the wait.”

          He rolled over with her, so they were on their sides facing one another.  He nuzzled her nose playfully and smiled against her lips.  “I’ll always wait for y’, woman.”

          She brushed his hair back from his eyes, her thumb caressing his cheekbone, pure love and adoration pouring from the depths of her eyes.  “You won’t have to anymore.”

 

*.*.*

 

          The first rays of dawn had barely streaked the sky, the fires dormant with the onset of a new day.  Carol stared down onto the grounds, resting back against Daryl’s chest as he stood with her there at the window, her fingers idly stroking the back of his hand where they were wrapped about her waist.  They’d hardly slept at all, choosing to spend their night exploring one another, learning to love, expressing their passion and desire and hoping for a bright future together.

          A lone tear trickled from the corner of her eye as she thought about Carl.  He’d been such an inspiration, growing into a fine young man despite the horrors of the world.  It wasn’t fair he’d had to be taken from them.  She leaned her head against Daryl’s where it rested on her shoulder.  “I’m going to miss him so much,” she whispered brokenly.

          There were no platitudes he could offer which wouldn’t sound contrite falling from his lips.  “Carl was … he was a good boy, had a good head on his shoulders.  But he shoulda stayed his ass behind the walls instead o’ runnin’ off tryin’ t’ save everybody.  I’m worried ‘bout Rick now.”

          “We have reason to worry,” she agreed.  “I don’t want to see him go off the deep end like when he lost Lori.  I’m afraid he won’t be able to come back from that again.”

          Daryl sighed, turning her in his arms and dropping a kiss to her lips.  “He’s our friend.  We’ll jus’ have t’ be there for him as much as we can.”  She nodded and laid her head against his shoulder, humming softly as he teased the curls at her nape.  “Carol … I want y’ with me today.  When we’re fightin’ I want y’ at my side.”

          The old argument, she lamented silently.  “Daryl, we’ve already gone over this.  We all have a job to do, and I can’t deviate from the plan because we’re afraid.”

          “I can fight an’ protect y’ at th’ same time,” he insisted.  He knew better than anyone how well she could protect herself, but it didn’t mean he didn’t want to look out for her.

          Carol stroked her fingers lovingly over his heart.  “No, you can’t.  We have to stick to our assignments and hope for the best.  Jerry will be with me, Daryl.”

          He knew she was right.  “Yeah, well, I ain’t gotta like it.”

          She wound her arms around his neck and grinned impishly.  “Don’t worry about me, love.  I was trained by the best.”

          Daryl snorted, a blush tinging his cheeks at her praise.

          “And then when it’s all over, and our enemies are defeated, we can come back here and start on that future you promised me.”  She kissed him lingeringly, knowing their time was short.  “I’ll be with you, Daryl, just as you’ll be with me,” she murmured pressing her hand once more over his heart.  “Despite the distance between us, we’re always with one another.”

          He held her tightly, wanting just a few more moments before they had to join the others below.  Carol had always been his strength, his reason to survive in this world, and now as he went into battle, instead of fear, hope would be what drove him … hope and the promise of her arms.

 

The End

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/n: And that’s a wrap. I really hope you all enjoyed this little ‘what if’ scenario. I think we all have things we’d like to see in 8B. Great big buckets of love to all who reviewed. Your kind words and encouragement mean so much to me … always. Huge thanks to my beta team BettyBubble and Geektaire, who had to suffer along with me during the writing process. There are no words for how much I love y’all. And for Marie1063, my little angst genie who shared this prompt with me instead of keeping it all bottled up!

**Author's Note:**

> A/n: I really didn’t think this was going to be so angsty when I started it. I should’ve known better, since I live for the angst. But I promise it will get better. Please review if you have a moment. I’d love to hear your thoughts. Thanks to my awesome beta team of BettyBubble and Geektaire! Love you, girls! I will have Part Two up tomorrow.


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